A Little Prince
by Arigatomina
Summary: Yaoi, will be GokuxVegeta. Vegeta has been placed in Frieza's school to be trained while hiding from assassins. But when his father dies, his status is lost. Now, Goku's father is searching for the heir to the throne, not seeing the prince right beneat
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: This fic was inspired by (I can't remember the author's name) the classic book, 'A Little Princess.' This is not a very close fusion with that book, but that was my inspiration, so it receives credit as due.  
Category: Anime, Dragon Ball Z, Yaoi, AU  
Warnings: not much here, but expect this to have angst in spades  
Pairings: will be Goku+Vegeta, and more  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Website/Complete Archive: www.geocities.com/arigatomina  
  
A Little Prince  
  
Part 1  
  
The building looked more like some sort of shelled insect, half-buried in the thick grass that surrounded it. The yards were bare of the foliage usually seen around such facilities, and the town had either crept away from the Center, or the Center had been placed on the outskirts. Even as the ship flew past the last of the town's small huts, clear ground opened beneath it for nearly a mile before the building loomed up in its semicircular dome. The inside arc was small, resembling nothing so much as pinchers on some mammoth locust, and the ship descended within those imagined claws. As it touched down on the white platform, one figure shifted in a dark doorway, stepping forward to greet the newcomer with only the slightest curve of dark blue lips. Piercing eyes locked onto the moving hatch before falling down and sweeping the length of the one who was revealed.  
  
An indiscernible smirk passed over those small lips as he stared down at the boy. A small, slightly pointed chin raised, black eyes flicking to him in a bored, yet haughty look and Freiza smirked again. The prince's small arms were folded over his chest, and his eyes were pulled down to the brown tail wrapped about the boy's waist. If it hadn't been for that tail, and the superior expression, he'd never have believed this small boy was the heir to the saiyajin throne. But he wasn't about to forget the visit he'd received from a strikingly similar man, one whose stance could be seen mirrored in the boy's form. There was no doubt that this was King Vegeta's son. And judging from the way those black eyebrows drew together, the prince was getting irritated by his silence. With long strides that belied his own short stature, Frieza crossed the small courtyard, his own tail twitching as he barely kept it from mimicking the boy. Two feet separated them when he paused, meeting dark black eyes before he sank to one knee, bowed head hiding the return of his smirk. Humor niggled in his mind and he knew to kneel to the child was to pay homage to the sire. That was the only thing preventing him from giving in to his need to laugh at the boy. As it was, that small chin lifted again and a soft snort reached him before he rose again.  
  
Thick eyebrows were nearly pressing together and Vegeta had to tighten his teeth in order to ease the force of his scowl. He simply couldn't imagine that the smooth creature in front of him was supposed to be the strongest on the planet. It was true that he'd only been off Planet Vegeta once before, but he'd imagined he was being sent to some terrifying warrior. His father had warned him that the training ahead would be vigorous and challenging, and he'd actually been eager to meet up with someone capable of challenging him. But the creature looking at him didn't seem powerful at all. And its small lips were pursed in such a way that Vegeta was hard pressed to even believe it was a male. Sharp eyes were watching him and his muscles flexed for a second, arms tightening over his chest. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, this had to be Frieza.  
  
The boy was still scowling at him and Frieza kept his own expression perfectly neutral. "You will understand if I don't address you as 'Your Highness,'" he drawled softly, eyes tilted down as the boy was actually some feet shorter than him. "Your father-" One of those thick eyebrows twitched suddenly and Frieza's lips curled in response, "King Vegeta," he corrected smoothly, amused by the boy, "has explained the purpose behind your presence here. It wouldn't do for anyone to discover who you are. During your stay, you will be known only as Vegeta-san. The students will treat you accordingly." The king had explained more than that, and Frieza was certain the boy would be insulted when he learned that to the other students, he was merely one of them. Yes, he was obviously a first-class saiyajin. That much was blatantly evident by the tail wrapped about that small waist. But there were more than one saiyajin still alive in that class. Despite their fierce nature, saiyajins had managed not to wipe themselves out completely. Not yet, Frieza smirked, turning his body a bit so he could wave a hand toward the door he'd exited. The boy shot him a quick glare before striding past and Freiza gave in to his smirk, eyes sliding over that dark-clothed back. The real reason for this ruse was because the saiyajins were once again waging war, against each other this time.  
  
As far as schools went, his establishment taught nothing more than how to destroy and survive. That truly made it a perfect place for a saiyajin. But there were few of the race left, few enough that they rarely left their home planet for anything other than one of their frequent attacks on neighboring worlds. They held their dominance over other species in a tight fist, but among themselves... Frieza had heard of the unrest long before the saiyajin king contacted him. It seemed there were enemies within the first-class who wanted to unthrone the king, and that made his son a target as well. He understood why King Vegeta would send his son into hiding, but it really was amusing that the king sent the boy to him. After all, most saiyajins spent at least some time in a school such as his. If the king's enemies were to really search, they would seek the boy out here quicker than in a less noticeable place. But that had not been the king's concern and Frieza waved a hand at the ship behind him, dismissing it before following the young prince. As a saiyajin, the king had admitted the need to hide his son somewhere away from himself. And as a saiyajin, he'd told Frieza how important it was that the boy not lose his edge during that hiding. If the prince had to be hidden somewhere, then he might as well gain training and strength from the experience, at least until his father could resume the training himself. Being a member of one of the strongest races beneath saiyajins, Frieza had been the best choice. With his reputation, few intruded on the school, and fewer had access to what students attended the school. He had to admit, the king had made a good choice.  
  
It was difficult to keep from hesitating in the doorway to his new home and Vegeta frowned darker, his eyes snapping to a teen who was walking down the long hall. He'd never been inside the place, and he had no idea where he was supposed to be going. But he wasn't about to let Frieza lead him. No one except his father walked before him, it wasn't done. The white-skinned creature moved to stand beside him and Vegeta lifted his chin again. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being so short. His father had told him it was the strength that garnered respect, but his father was much taller also, so as far as Vegeta could see, the man didn't have room to talk. It was infuriating to have to look up to the smooth creature.  
  
"Before you take your room, you will need to view the contract and sign it. Your-the King has already done so, as have I." The boy snorted again and Frieza followed black eyes to where they had locked on a boy further down the hall. Even shorter than the young prince, the boy seemed much older than he was, mostly due to the fact that he didn't have a single hair on his head. Wide eyes grew wider when Frieza looked at the small figure and the boy turned quickly, hurrying off. "That's just a servant," Frieza commented, "we do have a few of those here." The boy didn't seem to be listening, but he walked forward when Frieza made as if to proceed him. "Students who come here and for different reasons are no longer able to pay for their keep."  
  
"If they can't pay," Vegeta said sharply, still glaring in the direction the short boy had gone, "they don't belong here." He wasn't about to forget how the bald male had stared at him and the insult would be repaid. If he weren't a student, then Vegeta would simply have to find some other way to teach him not to stare so rudely. It would have been simpler, and a pleasure, to smack the insolent one, not enough to injure him but enough to get his point across. Unfortunately, the law forbid a student in training from attacking, or even challenging anyone not also a student. It angered him, but most of that came from the fact that he knew his father would never have allowed such an insult. No one dared to stare at the King as if he were some new sort of bug, and as the heir to that throne, Vegeta was determined to gain the same respect, *especially* from mere servants. He'd never gone to a place where he wasn't known to all and respected, and feared, because of that. Maybe he couldn't tell people who he was, but he would ensure that they treated him as he deserved, whether they knew why or not. Frieza was close to passing him and Vegeta stepped quicker, not quite shooting a biting glare. He decided that he didn't like the way the creature looked at him. It wasn't the smirk. That expression was one he'd seen too many times on his father's face for it to bother him. No, it was the fact that he couldn't read any emotions from the creature *unless* it was smirking. There was little give to that slightly glossy skin.  
  
"The law requires that they be allowed to stay," Frieza commented, noting that the boy was being careful to remain ahead of him. It really was horribly amusing. "And they are useful. Who would expect a student to do menial tasks?" The prince glanced at him and for a second the scowl slipped, then that dark head was turned away again and the boy gave a sharp nod. They had reached the end of the corridor and he waved a hand past Vegeta, noting how those dark brows narrowed, eyes following his clawed hand. "My office is there." The boy turned and Frieza allowed him to enter the door first. He couldn't help but wonder if the prince even knew what the contract contained.   
  
When he'd first created the school, the law had been much more lax. Only the parent's signature had been required, with the children bound by that agreement. But too many orphans were excluded, unable to enter into a contract without the permission of a parent, and the law had changed. Now, not only did the parent, if one existed, have to sign, but the child as well. Frieza had yet to find a true problem with the new law, but he wondered what the boy would think of the stipulations. The king had intended to hide his son until the war between saiyajins had finished, but that could take years. As far as Frieza had heard, the only threats against the current king were overt at best. A full year could easily pass before King Vegeta even knew who his enemies were. Because of this uncertainty, he'd agreed to hide the boy and complete his training in one fail swoop. That meant the young prince would not merely be staying for a year or so, he would be completing the full term. And ten years was a long time. The ten-year-old boy in front of him would be a man before he left the school. That was assuming, of course, that the boy signed.   
  
The moment his eyes fell to the sheaves of paper, Vegeta knew something was wrong. The time agreed upon seemed to spring forward and his hand curled, nearly ripping the pages to shreds. It couldn't be true, surely his father didn't expect him to stay away for so long. Even if the school *could* make him stronger, three years would be too long. But ten? There was no way he wouldn't be able to match Frieza's strength long before then. His father had told him that these schools taught students to hit their maximum power. And the king definitely expected his son to leave being much stronger than the teacher of the school. But Vegeta couldn't understand why his father would think he'd need ten years to get that strong. Wasn't he his son?   
  
He'd seen his father's strength on the rare occasions when he got to accompany him in a fight, and he knew that his own strength was fated to exceed that. It was the saiyajin way, the son surpassing the father. That was how his family had managed to hold onto the crown for so long. And there was nothing lacking in him, Vegeta knew that without a doubt. Then why did his father think he would need so long to train? Once he grew stronger than Frieza, there would be no reason for him to stay in the school. If he signed, then he would have to stay, regardless of how much time he wasted. The creature was watching him, but Vegeta couldn't control his facial expression, his fury rising even more as he picked up the pen. It would be a waste of time, a waste of precious years from his life, but he had no choice in the matter. His father's signature glared up at him and he returned that glare, the tip of the pen scoring the paper as he placed his own insignia on the line above it. If that was the way the king wanted it, then so be it. He'd just have to return that insult once he saw the man again. And somehow, he thought that was probably just the thing King Vegeta expected from him when they met once more.  
  
* * *  
  
The news was enough to nearly leave him in glee, a terrifying expression that Frieza rarely had the chance to wear. As he'd barely allowed himself to dream, the saiyajin war was at full hilt. And the king was dead. It was too much. Two years he'd been forced to show respect to the brat, the demi-saiyajin who, despite the secretly lax training, was steadily growing stronger. He'd had no choice but to watch as the small child became the leader of the school, enforcing fear upon even the oldest students. His own position of dominance was barely held in the face of that saiyajin's unwavering pride. The students often feared that boy at least as much as they had ever feared him. It didn't help that Vegeta had been as strong as even the strongest students when he'd arrived. Watching a ten year old boy who'd never been officially trained beat his prize students with seeming ease had been a sore test of his patience. But seeing how the prince mocked them all after each and every battle had been a thousand times worse. And now, all of his waiting had paid off.   
  
It wasn't that he'd planned on the king dying from the start. In fact, he hadn't even let himself hope of such a thing. To be blunt, he'd known better than refusing the man when he decided to place his son in the school. Whether he liked it or not, Frieza knew he was no match for the king of all saiyajins. So he'd swallowed his anger at the impudent saiyajin and taken the spoiled child into his school. He'd stood aside and let the confident prince wreck havoc over all of the other lines of dominance. The students knew who was stronger and they'd formed their own lines long before the young saiyajin arrived. It took Vegeta three days to rip those until all the students were considered in the same group, beneath the saiyajin. But not now. Now, the boy was no longer a student. Maybe he was still heir to the saiyajin throne, but to ever tell anyone would be to ensure his own assassination. The boy might hold dominance in the school, but even a confident demi-saiyajin knew better than to try and fight people capable of killing the king. Besides that, he'd signed the contract agreeing to a ten year stay. The funding was now cut off, but the contract remained as binding as any other at the school. It was the underlining stipulation that no student be thrown out.  
  
The laws were followed by him as carefully as by any other person on the planet. Things were actually easier that way. If they hadn't been, Frieza would have dismissed such governing rules. But this made it easy to run the school, and it came in especially handy now. In one fail blow, the demi-saiyajin had gone from the top student, to nothing more than another servant. He'd lost not only his rights, but his pride and position. And Frieza couldn't wait to tell him, especially the details of the king's death. The most powerful saiyajin alive had died in his sleep. One poisoned blade and a long line of royalty crashed down. It was as ironic as it was wonderful.  
  
* * *  
TBC  
--notes--  
This fic won't follow the story-line of 'A Little Princess' very closely since it's going to have much more angst. And this is an AU fic, so expect half of the DBZ rules/facts to be rearranged to fit my needs, ^__^ (meaning, feel free to enlighten/educate me, but please don't correct me). 


	2. Part 2

Category: Anime, Dragon Ball Z, Yaoi, AU  
Warnings: not much, vague hint of past shonen ai (Bardock+King Vegeta)  
Pairings: will be Goku+Vegeta  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Website/Complete Archive: www.geocities.com/arigatomina  
  
A Little Prince  
  
Part 2  
  
The anger at the table was almost enough to ruin his appetite, but not quite. It took an excessive distraction to keep him from his food and even the sound of his father's horribly frustrated voice only made his eyes lift from the rice in front of him, the rest of his body still focused on the meal. Not only had he been cooped up in a shuttle for the last six hours, but there hadn't been anything to eat along the way. To say he was nearly starving wouldn't have been an exaggeration. Yet his father didn't seem to mind the interruption of their dinner and Goku watched with a slightly hopeful expression. The call had come in mere moments after they landed, but from the sound of things, it wasn't good news. A glance at Raditz's flushed face proved his brother had failed in his mission.  
  
"We don't even know if he sent him to a school," the teenager muttered, flinching when the veins throbbed in his normally calm father's temples. It wasn't his fault the search had turned up nothing, he hadn't even been the one to pick the school.  
  
"He wouldn't waste two years of the boy's life," Bardock growled, his fists tightening for a moment before he managed to calm himself. The teen couldn't be blamed for the fact that their leads were proving useless. King Vegeta had told absolutely no one about his plans. In fact, Bardock hadn't even learned that the prince was gone until the king returned without him. They'd supposed to have gone on a small, private training session. But the king had returned mere days after their departure, and he'd come back alone. Any questions as to the prince's whereabouts had been met with a conceited smirk and sharp silence. The king had hidden him away, and he'd been far too smug for him to have hidden him anywhere where the boy wouldn't receive at least some sort of training. And there were enough schools that an enemy could search for years and not find the boy, especially if the person running the facility knew to keep his presence a secret. Bardock was certain the prince had to be in a school somewhere, but so far every idea had turned up nothing. All they knew was that King Vegeta had only been gone for three days, meaning his destination couldn't be too far from Planet Vegeta. "Check the other schools there before you come back," Bardock said in a much calmer voice. It wasn't like him to take his anger out on either of his sons, but Raditz had a tendency to disappoint him. The teenager was simply not strong enough.  
  
"Are we going to be staying here, then?" Goku asked, pausing to glance at his father's back again. The black-haired saiyajin was standing with his back to the table, but dark eyes flicked over his shoulder and the teen received a sharp nod. "Why? I thought this was too close to be a possibility."  
  
"It is," Bardock admitted before looking back to his elder son. "We'll be using this as our base for a while. As far as I can tell, this is about the center of the space the king could have gone to. It's no good for us to be darting all over the place checking out planets."  
  
"But that's exactly what I'm doing," Raditz protested, black eyes widening in a mixture of anger and frustration. "At this rate I'll probably be checking every planet in this sector!"  
  
"And I will check the ones in the next sector," Bardock nodded, "but now isn't the time for Goku to be wasting time traveling." His older son's eyes narrowed in sudden anger, but Bardock ignored it. He was aware of the jealousy his eldest child held for the younger teen, but Goku showed more promise than Raditz ever had. No matter how much older Raditz was, or how much he tried to deny the fact, the younger of his children was definitely the only one who would surpass him. It didn't matter who was born first. The son who surpassed him was guaranteed to be his heir and that meant Goku received more training than Raditz. There was no point in the older teen getting so angry about it. "You know this could take a year. I'll be leaving him here while I make my jaunts, and you'll stop here between planets."  
  
"You mean I won't be going with you?" Goku said loudly, forgetting his meal as his eyes flew from the screen to his father.  
  
"We'd get more done if he helped," Raditz muttered, not quite glaring at his younger brother. Yes, he knew that Goku was destined to be the stronger of them, but the saiyajin barely seemed worthy of that name. As far as he was concerned, Goku cared more about eating and watching things than about fighting. And fighting was the center of the saiyajin's universe.  
  
"Maybe," Bardock nodded, "but I won't waste his life any more than King Vegeta would have wasted his son's. I won't be able to train him, but there is no reason not to follow the king's move."  
  
"You aren't planning to enter him into a school too, are you?" With a quick glare at his wide-eyed brother, Raditz bit down on his anger. "I see."  
  
"I'm going to a school?" Both his father and brother seemed to groan and Goku blinked for a second before leaning close to the table. "I thought those were only for people who've already surpassed their parents."  
  
"Where have you been?" Raditz demanded, not bothering to hide his disgust. "King Vegeta hid his son in one of those schools, and we all know that boy wasn't stronger than him. The schools are for those whose parents can't train them, for whatever reasons."  
  
"But I thought you didn't think the prince was *in* a school," Goku reminded him, his voice dropping a bit until he trailed off. His older brother was definitely seething and he shrugged, glancing to his father. "I don't mind being able to train again, but isn't finding the prince more important than that? I'm old enough to help you two search."  
  
"There are plenty of saiyajins who are old enough to search," Bardock said sharply, "but you are at the peak of your life. Now is the time for you to be trained whether by my hand or another. In fact, you should have been training these last five years, not waiting for the war to finish. If it *weren't* for the war, you would surely be stronger now."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"If there are saiyajins old enough to search, then why do *I* have to do all this running?" Dark eyes snapped to him and Raditz flushed again, anger tightening his muscles.  
  
"You show disrespect to your future king," Bardock murmured, his voice smooth yet holding a definite warning. "As the next in line for the throne, it's our family's duty to find the crown prince. This is our duty, and our privilege."  
  
Raditz dropped his eyes, leaning back in his seat as he was careful to hide his fisted hands from the view screen connecting him to his father. He knew it was their duty, but he simply didn't see why his father was so certain they'd even find the boy. In fact, he didn't understand why Bardock had left Planet Vegeta in the first place. As heir to the throne after the prince, his father should already have been king. Only the man's determination to find the prince had stalled the announcement. All they would have to do would be to claim that the prince had died and they would be the crown family, no questions asked. After all, Bardock had always been the strongest next to the king, and he'd been the leader of the winning side of the war. To take the throne was his right, yet the man had ignored that in order to search for some boy.   
  
And Raditz remembered that boy very well. He'd only seen the prince once since the boy had been too young to participate in real fights, but he would never forget that terribly conceited expression. The kid had been a brat, pure and simple, as unbearably arrogant as the king himself. Everyone who met the prince had told tales of the boy's attitude. Raditz was certain that even if they found the prince, they were better off with his father on the throne instead. King Vegeta hadn't been able to hold the saiyajins together, and he doubted the son would be able to do it either. What they needed now that the war was over, was a king who could unite the remaining first-class saiyjins, whether through trust or fear. His father was strong enough, and smart enough, to manage both.  
  
"Which school will I be staying at?" Goku asked, having waited through the long silence until he couldn't keep back his excitement any longer. He'd always wondered about the schools, and he had felt odd with so many years passing since his father had been able to train him. But Bardock had fought on the mainlines and he'd been kept with the other young saiyajins, protected since they were not yet strong enough to be anything other than a nuisance on the battlefield. Still, the war had lasted much longer than any of them had imagined and Goku had spent almost six years with only children to fight against. It was daunting to imagine trying to fight trained students, but he did want to improve. Despite how long it had been, there was something attractive in the idea of facing opponents stronger than him. His father was definitely too busy to train him, but the schools were supposed to be run by individuals who almost rivaled the full saiyajin power. "How many are there on this planet?"  
  
"There are over thirty," Bardock answered, nodding when Raditz gave a sharp bow and the screen went blank. Turning to Goku, he finally took his place across from him. "Only two of them were possibilities when we first started the search, but Raditz went through here a month ago. The search turned up nothing, but one of the schools does show promise for you." His son nodded and he inclined his head, lips almost twitching at the evident excitement. It pleased him that the teen was eager to take up his training again. He'd noticed that the boy had gotten a bit softer since they were able to fight regularly, and it was good to know he hadn't lost his fighting spirit. "One of the schools is only thirty miles from here, close enough for you to come back here when Raditz and I stop by. I don't plan to leave you isolated, but there really is no excuse for your training to have been so neglected."  
  
"When do I start?"  
  
Those dark eyes were sparkling and Bardock shook his head, leaning back until the chair nearly creaked from his weight. "We just landed," he reminded his son. "I'll have to make certain the law will approve of a shorter stay. The regular term here is ten years, but I thought one year should be enough. If we don't find the prince before then..."  
  
"I'm sure we'll find him," Goku said quickly, taking in the softness that crept into his father's voice. He was very aware of the fact that his father had been close to the king, even if he hadn't seen the man himself. He'd only been eleven when the rumors of war started, and as a child he hadn't had access or reason to be near the king. But he'd heard his father talk of the man often enough and he knew the man had a great deal of respect for his former sovereign.  
  
"Yes," Bardock nodded, "we have to. There is no way I'll take King Vegeta's crown away from his son. You know that family has held the title for nearly the entire saiyajin history."  
  
"Where they really that strong?"  
  
"They are," Bardock corrected, putting evidence on the present tense. "Vegeta-sama had complete confidence in his son's potential. Wherever he is, the boy has surely surpassed the king by now."  
  
"But he's only my age! Right?" His father smirked at him and Goku's eyes widened. "Isn't he?"  
  
"Actually, he was born a year after you," Bardock smiled. "But you must remember, he has been in a training school since he was ten. You've been sitting with the children for the last five years."  
  
"I did get to fight a little," Goku protested, "I mean, I've exercised as much as I could."  
  
"It's not the same without an appropriate sparring partner. I had the best when I was young."   
  
"You really fought with the king?" The older man gave a slow nod and Goku dropped his eyes, recognizing the slightly glazed look. To think, his father had fought with the king. It was hard to imagine that their king had once been a child himself, especially when he was said to have been one of the most cold-hearted saiyajins ever born. But his father never referred to the man as evil or even cold, merely determined and with the power to back up that determination. "Were you strong enough to be a good partner for him?" he asked softly, blinking when his father grinned.  
  
"Don't tell your brother this," Bardock confided, his grin widening a bit more, "but I could have taken the throne on more than one occasion. Vegeta-sama was powerful, but we have blood as strong as his. I think..." His eyes drifted to the side and he nodded slowly, smile fading a bit. "I think I was seventeen the first time I threw a match. I simply couldn't stomach the thought of beating him."  
  
"What?! But why would you-I mean, it's heresy to throw a fight!" Dark eyes flicked to him and Goku closed his mouth suddenly, feeling a wave of nervousness at the man's dangerous gaze.  
  
"To have defeated him and taken the throne would have been far more disrespectful to the king's authority than to fight at less than my full power. And I knew then that I did not have the rigidity to rule the way he did. He had no leniency. That is necessary to rule a species such as ours. Had the opposition not used such cowardly methods, he would be ruler even now."  
  
"Mm." Goku wasn't sure if he really understood his father's argument, but he had an idea that the king wouldn't have taken being beaten very well. Though he'd not met the king, he had heard enough from Raditz's friends to know the man had been almost overly confident in himself. But it was amazing. His father didn't lie, but he couldn't imagine the man being stronger than the king. No one was supposed to have been stronger, that was why the opposition had resorted to such methods. And it was even worse than that. If his father was stronger than the king, then he would have to get stronger himself. In order to surpass his father and be heir to his part of the saiyajin class, he would have to get stronger than the king had been. The thought was far too daunting.  
  
His son had never been very good at hiding his thoughts from him and Bardock smirked again, taking in the teen's dazed expression. "You aren't as strong as I was at that age, but you will be. Once you start your training again, your inborn potential should show itself."  
  
"But to get that kind of strength..."  
  
The boy was looking younger with each passing second and Bardock set his hands down heavily on the table. "The school I have in mind is headed by someone more than strong enough to challenge you. All it will take is determination. Just fight, Kakarott, fight and get stronger."  
  
The name made him flinch and Goku flushed suddenly. The only time his father called him that was when he was acting too much like his mother. It wasn't that the female had been weak, not by female standards, but she had been more kind-hearted than most. Goku had spent the last four years under her care, explaining why he was accustomed to going by the name she'd given him. While his father had agreed to address him by that name, Bardock did occasionally refer to his first, male-given name. It was the man's way of reminding him that he was the son destined to be stronger than the sire. "Yes. I'll do my best."  
  
"Your best should be more than enough for you to surpass the head of the school in a year," Bardock nodded. He really did worry about how much time the teen had spent with his mother, but Goku was stronger than he realized. The boy simply need to grow up, and become the man he appeared to be. Bardock's eyes dropped to the table suddenly and he frowned. "I'll set things up for you after I eat. You didn't leave much, though."  
  
Flushing quickly, Goku gave a soft laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Gomen! I guess I wasn't paying attention."  
  
"As much energy as you're going to be burning in the next year, you'll need to eat that much," Bardock admitted, frowning darker when he realized the food was not only half gone, but cold as well. "But there's no reason for you to eat so much right *now*." A glance to his son proved the boy was embarrassed and he sighed, eating with less than his normal enthusiasm. At least he didn't have to worry that the boy had become a picky eater in the last five years. And it wasn't as if Goku wasn't still growing. He wouldn't be surprised if his son ended up being taller than him by the end of the year. Typical of saiyajin children, the boy was growing like a weed.  
  
* * *  
TBC 


	3. Part 3

Category: Anime, Dragonball Z, Yaoi, AU  
Warnings: very minor angst  
Pairings: will be Goku+Vegeta  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Website/Complete Archive: www.geocities.com/arigatomina  
  
A Little Prince  
  
Part 3  
  
If the school itself had resembled an insect, then the headmaster definitely looked like some sort of aquatic life-form. As far as Goku could tell, his skin seemed glossy enough to be water-resistant, and he could see from the way the creature moved that it flowed rather than strode. But he didn't spend too much time wondering where Frieza had come from. He was still in a mild state of shock at how tiny the head of the school was. Having expected a warrior who rivaled weaker saiyajins, he didn't quite know what to think when he found that Frieza was nearly two feet shorter than him. It was almost embarrassing. He had the impression that his height advantage might be seen as an insult to his new sensei. Still, there wasn't much he could do about that, his father had been tall and Goku expected to match that height eventually.  
  
The students he spotted during his tour were in a surprising range of ages. He could swear one or two of them looked far beneath puberty, but he spotted at least two who had to be in their twenties. While he hadn't had much experience with other species, he judged their ages by appearance. And from the way one of the students approached with confidence, they had judged him the same way. His smile was tentative as he waited near the smaller headmaster, watching as the tall green-haired male came to stand before them. The white-skinned creature smirked and looked up at him, an unnerving expression.  
  
The tall saiyajin still held that odd smile and Frieza took it as the sign of naivety it seemed to be. If any type of saiyajin had to enter into the school now, this was the sort he'd have preferred. A simple-minded one who wouldn't ask too many questions. Yes, Frieza was very aware of who the tall teen was. It hadn't been that long ago when another saiyajin had come by the school, seeking out the prince. And he was aware of the fact that his servant was mere yards away from being discovered. But it would never happen. None of the students were aware of Vegeta's identity, and even the former prince himself had long since ceased to call himself that. It was inevitable. Once stripped of all pride, the young boy had bowed to his superior and excepted his place in life. Beneath him. Frieza fully intended to keep it that way. And he knew, Vegeta had no wish for death. The saiyajin would not be the one to reveal his identity. Not that the two saiyajins would ever meet anyway, Frieza would see to that himself. "This," he murmured, flicking his fingertips at the green-haired student, "is Zarbon-san, the head of our school. Your father told me you had neglected your training and were to be ranked during your short stay with us. Zarbon-san will be your first opponent."  
  
With a quick look at Frieza, Goku blinked down at the student. The teen wasn't more than a few inches shorter than him, but the other teen was scowling with his eyes, the look at odds with the curve of his lips. "It's nice to meet you," Goku offered, blinking again when the male's smirk widened. "I'm Goku, Goku Kakarrot Son." The teen's shoulders shook for a second and Goku was just about to ask if he was all right when Zarbon let out a low chuckle.  
  
"I didn't know saiyajins grew so tall," Zarbon smirked, his eyes flicking to Frieza for a second. The headmaster's lips curved down in a slight frown and he straightened, his expression clearing. "Well," he continued, looking back to the tall saiyajin. "Do you go by Goku, or Kakarrot?"  
  
"Goku." The green-haired youth nodded and Goku found his eyes drawn to the thin gold band that circled Zarbon's forehead. It made him wonder if the teen weren't some sort of royalty in his race. But then, saiyajins never wore such head ornaments, so he couldn't be sure. The male definitely seemed to think highly of himself, though, from the easy way he met his gaze. Goku had heard that most races were severely intimidated by saiyajins; an unavoidable reaction considering saiyajins were the strongest. But none of the students he'd glimpsed in the hall had done more than stare in surprise. They hadn't seemed the least bit afraid of him.  
  
"The matches take place in the training room," Frieza stated, watching how the tall saiyajin blinked as if broken from his thoughts. "There is ample room. Official challenges are moved to a more private location, but I expect you won't need to see that just yet."  
  
Goku frowned at this, but didn't ask. The headmaster was probably right, anyway. Although he would never back down from a challenge, it wasn't like him to start trouble. Frieza had continued in his personal tour and Goku followed, his gaze moving around him after a brief hesitation on Zarbon. The other student had fallen into step a breath behind, and to the side, of Frieza. He didn't mind that the male was accompanying them, but it did make him wonder how close the students usually got to the white-skinned creature. Despite the smooth voice, Goku found himself uncomfortable when those small black pupils focused on him. He doubted he would ever feel at ease under that unreadable gaze. But Zarbon didn't seem to have any such problem. The young man was smiling again, that somehow annoying smirk.   
  
They approached the end of the hall and Goku's stance relaxed as he heard a general murmuring and spotted tables through the open doorway. It was obviously the cafeteria and he was set to look at the different students gathered there when someone brushed past him. His eyes dropped and he turned his head, following pale gray material before lifting a few inches to smooth skin. For a second he didn't know what to make of the little man who seemed frozen beneath his gaze. The male's hairless head had drawn his attention, causing him to grin since he knew it was rude to stare. Wide eyes were staring at him in blatant shock and his smile faded, disappearing completely when the little male glanced at Frieza and scurried off.  
  
* * *  
  
Sweat trickled down his neck, beads burning his eyes, but Krillin was as used to the stifling heat as he was to the darkness. There was no reason to condition the air in the servants' quarters, anymore than there was a need to light the narrow halls. At most, he was glad for his diminutive stature. Some of the taller servants had to duck their heads when negotiating the way to their rooms. They were just lucky to have rooms at all, if the small cell-like cubicles could be considered rooms. They certainly hadn't seemed livable when he'd first fallen from student to servant. Now, he felt as if he'd never known anything else and he nearly bolted down the hall, his thin shoes slipping on the floor with only the unseen layer of dust providing traction. If he ever stole a light, he was sure there would be a path cleared in that inch-thick dirt. He definitely ran through often enough.   
  
The doors to the rooms were so much like cells that he might have looked through the barred window if he'd had a light. As it was, he turned sharply, not quite stopping his fast sprint, and let his hands fall on the door to his right. In keeping with the general inconvenience of their quarters, there was no latch on the door and it swung heavily, a crack of darkness in the black hall that no amount of time could get him accustomed to. But he felt the metal shift away from his weight and slipped in, his back warmed by the inside of the door. If anything, it had to be hotter in the rooms. No matter how much he would have preferred to blame Frieza for this, he knew the room's occupant could easily have propped the door open. The rest of them did that. But not him.   
  
Lights were set up in each room, dim low-powered devices that somehow had managed to never blow out since Krillin had first arrived. Again, there was no blame for the darkness inside the room and he shifted nervously, his hands plucking at the damp cloth pressing his neck. "Could you turn on the light?" Silence answered him and he imagined he could make out the dark shape sitting somewhere across from him. "Or could I?"  
  
"Get out."  
  
Despite the fact that the unexpected low voice made him jump, Krillin gave a sigh of relief. It was much better at least having an idea which direction the male was in. He would never quite get over his fear of this one, no matter how long the former student had been a servant. His eyes darted to the corner on his left and he shuffled for a second before blurting out his news. "There's a new student. Have you heard about him? I didn't hear anything about him, but I saw him just now, with Frieza. He's a saiyajin!"  
  
"Nani?!"  
  
Jumping again, Krillin flinched when the room was lit suddenly, his eyes taking a moment or two to adjust to the dim yellow glow. Dark eyes were a foot from him and he jumped again, almost plastering his back against the door. "Ah!"  
  
"Baka." The little human was panting in evident fright and Vegeta's lips curved into a dark sneer, his arms folding as he waited with less than patience. "You said there was a saiyajin here," he prodded testily. He would have thrown the intruder out of his space, but he couldn't allow his ignorance of the new arrival to last. Nothing had been said to him of this, and he knew, it was just a matter of time before Frieza came to tell him. It was better to already be prepared. "What does he look like?"  
  
"Huh? He's a saiyajin," Krillin said, blinking warily. "He looks a little like you, but he's tall." The black-haired male nodded sharply and he relaxed a tiny bit, not pressing quite so hard against the warm metal door. "His hair stands up like that, but it's not in such a point, you know, more like this." Miming the new student's hair with his hands, Krillin shook his head. "Other than that he doesn't look that different. I mean, you two could be related." A sharp glare stabbed him for that remark and he shuffled back to put more space between them.  
  
"I don't care what his hair looks like," Vegeta said tightly, resisting the urge to move closer. It was inevitable. After so long, this little servant was one of the few he could still intimidate and he found it very difficult to resist doing so. But there was no point in being superior to a servant. He knew better than that. To do so would be to lower himself more than he already had. "Is he a first class, that's what I want to know."  
  
"Uh, I don't..." It took a minute, but Krillin blinked when he remembered the little bit of information he'd ever heard about saiyajins. "Oh! You mean the tail, right? Yeah, he's got one. He had it around his waist, just like you used to do." The saiyajin turned away from him and Krillin's eyes dropped despite himself, noting how well the male hid that tail. If he hadn't seen it for nearly two years, he wouldn't believe the former student even had one. "But that's a good thing," he said quickly, his hands curling a bit. He had an insane urge to circle the saiyajin, move to where he could see the teen's dark eyes. But he knew better than that. Vegeta wasn't one to invite a person into his room at all. He was doing well just to be allowed inside the door. Then again, he had brought such good news that he'd expected a warmer welcome. "Now you can leave, right?"  
  
"What? What are you thinking? Just because a saiyajin is here, you think that changes anything?" The little human was frowning at him with a visibly disappointed and confused expression and Vegeta snorted softly, watching from over his shoulder. "It means nothing."  
  
"But...but I thought you saiyajins took care of each other." Krillin flinched when the black-haired male took immediate insult and he shook his head. "Not that you need help, or anything. I wasn't trying to say you needed someone to take care of you, nothing like that. I just heard that saiyajins were a race who took insult if anything happened to one of them. I mean, you never hear of a saiyajin being made into a servant, even if the funding is cut off. It just doesn't happen so I thought now that another of your people is here, you'd get to cry insult." Those dark eyes were definitely glaring now and Krillin gulped when Vegeta stalked to him, the taller male bending a bit so their faces were close. "I..."  
  
"Who told you that?" Vegeta asked, his low voice taking a soft growling quality. What the human said was very true. If he were to tell his story to another saiyajin, pride would demand retribution for the disrespect shown him. Their race was not to be treated like other species, they were above them all. But it was very different in his case. To 'cry insult' would require admitting who he was. Yes, he was visibly saiyajin, but he would have to identify himself as such in order for anyone to take his side. He wouldn't willingly get himself killed anymore than he would ask someone else to defend his honor. "I am here by choice," he smirked, enjoying the way Krillin leaned away from him. Whether it was petty to frighten the servant or not, it suited his purpose now. "Do you forget? I signed the contract the same as you. I am bound to complete the term."  
  
"But-but you're a saiyajin!" Krillin cried, finally taking a long step back. The dark-haired teen straightened, shooting a fiery glare to him. "I mean, I don't have any connections or anything. And I'd get out of here in a second if I could, we all would! Besides," he said, his voice losing emphasis, "I only have a year left of my term. You have five. And Frieza-"  
  
"Nosey, aren't you?" Vegeta sneered, his hand curling into a fist and rising so the short man couldn't help but see it. "My concern is my concern. Get out."  
  
"Are you going to talk to the saiyajin? If you want I can-" A sharp oath made him bite back the words and Krillin jumped, his hand slipping on the edge of the door. "I'll go! I'm going, see, I'm leaving right now. I didn't mean to make you mad, you know. I just thought you'd be happy to-" He'd made it out of the room and his head jerked back when the door was slammed shut, dust rising in the hint of light visible through the bars. Rising on his tiptoes, he peeked through them before ducking just as quickly, black eyes meeting his abrupt glance. "I'm going!" He could swear a disgusted snort answered him as he moved farther down the hall. After a second, the light shut off again and he turned back with a soft sigh. Why the young saiyajin insisted on sitting in the dark he didn't know, but there was something sad about it.  
  
* * *  
TBC 


	4. Part 4

Category: Anime, Dragonball Z, Yaoi, AU  
Warnings: angst, slight violence  
Pairings: will be Goku+Vegeta, Zarbon+Vegeta  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Website/Complete Archive: www.geocities.com/arigatomina  
  
A Little Prince  
  
Part 4  
  
Having been abandoned at the cafeteria, Goku found himself with Zarbon as his new guide. Frieza had told him that his first match would be in the morning, and left without another word. Since the green-haired teen had seemed a bit mocking, Goku was surprised when the male pushed on his shoulder and waved a hand to where the food was. "Does everyone eat together?"  
  
"Sometimes," Zarbon smirked. "The food's replaced all day long, but no one has scheduled matches this late." It was nearly evening, odd since most new students arrived at the beginning of the day, but he planned to ask about that. He didn't know what to think of the saiyajin yet, but he was obviously much different from Vegeta. As far as he could tell, this one was no threat to his authority and that, along with Frieza's unspoken message, told him to probe for information. "Matches are usually scheduled throughout the day," he commented, moving to fill a plate. "Once you're ranked, you'll be put into a routine. The training room's marked off by color, so you just follow the assignments. They're posted each morning."  
  
Despite his usually huge appetite, Goku wasn't that hungry. His father hadn't been able to obtain an exemption until mid-day, and he'd eaten before coming to the school. But he looked over the food with interest, and not a little awe. He'd never seen half of the things, deep pots filled with a variety of meats next to more familiar rice platters. Zarbon was watching him and Goku shrugged, taking some of the substance the green-haired student had chosen. "I just ate," he explained.  
  
"As high as the fee is, the least they can do is feed us well," Zarbon drawled, his eyes flicking away. "I guess a first-class saiyajin wouldn't have to worry about money though, right?" Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at the saiyajin, taking in his wide-eyed blink. No, this one had absolutely nothing in common with Vegeta.  
  
"Not really," Goku admitted, "but I'm only staying for a year so it wasn't as much as a full student's fee. At least, I don't think it was." His father had taken care of that, but he assumed it would cost less to be trained for one year than it would for ten.  
  
"You're only staying for a year?" The black-haired youth nodded and Zarbon frowned before walking to his table. The students seated there met him with curious eyes and he gave a subtle shake of his head before looking back to Goku. "Aren't you old to be starting your training now? I heard saiyajins trained from the moment they started walking."   
  
A dark-haired boy shifted away and Goku smiled in thanks before taking the seat. "I have trained," he said, "but I haven't had a chance to for a few years now. I don't know how much I can do in a year, but I should be able to make up for some of the lost time."  
  
"How strong are you?"  
  
Goku blinked when Zarbon shot a surprisingly dark glare at the boy seated next to him. Turning, he looked at the teen, the same one who'd made room for him. "I'm not as strong as I should be," he said, smiling when the dark-haired boy seemed to relax a bit. "I don't actually know how strong I am by this school's standards. It's been a while since I had a sparring partner."  
  
Their leader was still frowning at him and Yamcha dropped his eyes for a second before glancing at the saiyajin again. Surely there wasn't any harm in talking to him. "You get to pick your sparring partner here, but only if he's at or above your level. When do you get ranked?"  
  
"Tomorrow," Zarbon said, his voice rising a bit so Yamcha met his gaze. The male paled a bit before breaking the gaze and he turned to Goku. "You don't actually have to pick someone at your level," he told him, his voice holding a mocking tone. "Yamcha just doesn't want you picking him. He's afraid of saiyajins." A muffled choke sounded and he joined a few of his friends in a quick laugh, taking in Yamcha's blush.  
  
"I didn't-" Yamcha bit off his retort when an elbow hit his side and he dropped his eyes again, his cheeks burning hotter. He hadn't thought the saiyajin might pick him, it was just that people always picked partners at their own levels. But Zarbon was right, as always. "They don't *have* to be at the same level," he muttered, "but most people-"  
  
"I'm sure Goku can pick his partner without help from you," Zarbon smiled. "Now then, tell us more about yourself, Goku." The saiyajin had an uncertain expression and his smile widened. "What brings a first-class saiyajin to our little school?"  
  
"My dad picked the school." His answer definitely wasn't enough to satisfy the teen, but Goku didn't plan to tell him any more than that. He'd had an idea before that Zarbon wasn't the type of person he liked. Watching the way he tried to control the conversation made him sure of it. Not to mention the fact that he didn't like seeing people bullied. The black-haired boy beside him was noticeably silent, and Goku remembered how the small bald man had gotten the same expression when he'd looked at Frieza. If he'd had to guess, he'd say the leader of the school was very similar to the head of the school. And he didn't think he liked either one of them.  
  
* * *  
  
Shuffles echoed slightly, muffled through the door but somehow filtering past the bars. A black eye opened in the darkness, but he sensed nothing from the person who passed his cell. He didn't consider it a room, though it was the only place he had. To think of it as a cell was better than getting used to it. That was what the others had done, but he had no plans to become accustomed to the place. Rather, he reveled in the discomfort, using the conditions of his quarters to fuel his anger. And it worked, not that he needed extra incentive. But now wasn't the time to pull on that burning fury. He was waiting for the visit he'd expected since hearing Krillin's news. Although Frieza could easily wait until he made his rounds later, he expected to be sought out in private. The headmaster took pleasure in reminding him he lacked all rights, especially privacy.  
  
He had no warning before his door was pressed open, a black shadow momentarily seen against the dim corridor beyond. And suddenly it was far too dark. Seconds passed with conflicting urges. Part of him wanted to turn on the lights, if only to see where Frieza was. He knew the darkness hid nothing from the creature, and even his adapted eyes weren't good enough to make out movements in the black cell. But to do so he'd have to stand and move his back away from the wall. It was a battle he'd waged before, and in the end he chose knowing where the enemy was over false security. The dim light glinted off glossy white skin, revealing faintly curved lips before he dropped his glare to the floor.  
  
The saiyajin's arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw set in an infinitely stubborn frown. It was almost enough to make Frieza laugh as he circled the teen slowly. He hadn't actually seen the boy in months, and though the good behavior came as a surprise, it was hard earned. All signs of their last battle were gone from the prince's pale arms, that scowling face. His perusal ended there and he smirked when black eyes shifted to the side. "Have I neglected you, Saru-chan?" There was no reaction, and though Vegeta had retained his constant anger, it was getting harder to provoke a response. The monkey was nearly as tall as him now, and he lifted a hand, clawed fingers brushing Vegeta's shoulder as they curled around the servant's gray shirt. "Look at you," he murmured, keeping a close watch on those averted eyes, "you're filthy. I hear you've been avoiding the showers lately." He got nothing from that stony face and Frieza glared suddenly, his hand dropping to the saiyajin's waist. With a twist of his wrist he clutched the tail hidden beneath the servant's baggy shirt. Those black eyes closed at his touch, but it wasn't until he tightened his grip that the saiyajn flinched, chin dropping to his chest.  
  
Just a bit more pressure and the boy fell to his knees, a smirk passing over Frieza's lips. "Do you need an escort?" he asked, crouching in front of the black-haired youth, not relinquishing his hold on that tail. "Saru..." Black eyes snapped open to glare at him and his fingers eased, brushing once before letting the saiyajin go. "You poor hygiene aside, I have news for you. It seems your replacement has chosen my school. Isn't that ironic?" Vegeta's eyebrows twitched in a hint of a frown and he nodded slowly, lips curved into a small smile. "Yes, not just any monkey. His brother is the same one who came by before. But this one will be staying with us for the next year. Isn't that wonderful news?" Vegeta's jaw clenched and Frieza's lips turned down, his hand reaching toward the youth's side.  
  
"Hai."  
  
With a smirk, Frieza smoothed Vegeta's shirt before relaxing on his heels. "Mm, I thought so, too. After all, we do so enjoy having saiyajins here." The saiyajin's arms were still crossed, and he knew why. Despite the years that had passed, it still wasn't easy for the prince to keep from trying to attack him. That was his way of holding himself in check. Those dark eyes dropped again and Frieza's tail lifted, curving over his shoulder to brush the underside of Vegeta's chin. That did it. The boy reeled backward with a hiss between clenched teeth, his black eyes fairly blazing in the dim room. With a genuinely satisfied smile, Frieza stood, enjoying the saiyajin's wary flinch. Vegeta continued to glare at him, but there was a twinge of fear combined with that anger. "I should tell him I have the monkey he's looking for," he commented, lips curved in smirk. "It's really an inconvenience to have to hide you for the next year. You're not that good of a servant, after all. And you have so much trouble getting along with the students. But...I do enjoy your little temper tantrums, Saru-chan." His tail curled behind him and he crossed to the kneeling youth in a fluid motion. The prince glared, absolutely motionless and it was amazing how well he controlled his breathing. Frieza could feel the anger, but the saiyajin didn't raise his ki at all. He really did learn. It just took a few lessons.  
  
Holding Vegeta's tenacious glare, Frieza raised a hand toward those dark glaring eyes. They never flickered when he brushed the tips of his claws over dark lashes, and his lips twisted into a sudden sneer as his hand darted to the side. His fingers clenched in thick black hair and he jerked the boy's head back. That glare flickered for a second before returning, daring him. They both knew the rules well enough. A headmaster couldn't challenge a student, let alone a servant. That meant it was up to Vegeta to challenge him. And as stubborn as the saiyajin no ouji was, he'd never do it directly. But that didn't stop him from trying to provoke the boy, his hold forcing that dark head farther back until Vegeta's eyes narrowed into black slits. He could see how tightly the teen's muscles were clenched, holding his back absolutely straight as those arms tightened. Leaning over him, Frieza brushed the tip of his tail over that exposed neck as he glared back into black eyes. "There's only one thing that keeps me from revealing you," he murmured, his voice at odds with his dangerous expression. A tiny tremor moved through the saiyajin when his tail curved around the teen's neck, not too tightly. For a moment he thought Vegeta would break, but those black eyes continued with their pathetic glare and his face smoothed into a dark smile. "Zarbon misses you...Vegeta." The prince growled softly, and he could feel the straining muscles through his tail as his smile widened.   
  
The young saiyajin nearly collapsed when he released him, dark head bowed as he fell forward onto his hands, that defensive and repressed pose broken. "I think it's time you went back to first shift," Frieza said, his voice rising a bit until it was careless. He turned away from the saiyajin, striding to the door. It wasn't until he reached it that he paused, smiling when that dark head didn't rise to meet his gaze. "I'd planned to hide you from the new saiyajin, but there's no need for that, is there Saru? You're just another servant." Vegeta's shoulders moved, but the fifteen year old still didn't look at him. A soft sighing laugh passed his lips and he pulled the door open, not looking back. "Clean yourself up before tomorrow. You can serve breakfast in the morning." That dark head jerked at this, but gave no other sign of anger. "You see? I can be lenient. It's much easier than cleaning the floors at night."  
  
Five minutes passed in silence before Vegeta cracked. He had no way of knowing if Frieza was still in the hall or not, but he simply couldn't hold back any longer. His hands curled into fists so tight the knuckles cracked against the floor, his bowed head jerking down to his chest as his body shook. Every muscle clenched in spasms and he shoved off the floor suddenly, hovering inches above it. Even if he couldn't control his anger, he knew better than to let it touch the floor. There could be no visible signs left to be discovered. His hunched body clenched inward, fisted hands pressed tight against his hair as he bit back the scream burning in his throat. It was too hard, always so very hard. Heat billowed around him, the light red behind his closed eyes, and it had nothing to do with the room. It was his own burning hatred, kept bottled up so long. And he had to hold it, had to keep that inside or he would have no chance. He *couldn't* act on this, not now. It was too soon. The lack of training had turned to intense meditation, and he knew he could raise his power much higher than it had been the last time he fought Frieza. But that wasn't enough. If he acted now he'd do nothing more than ensure another month of debilitating pain and achingly slow recovery. He couldn't act now, and there was no reason to.   
  
He told himself this again as his body curled tighter upon itself, every clenched muscle burning from the tension. Frieza could do nothing to him unless *he* challenged the headmaster. All he had to do was hold back. But it was so hard. And now he would be back out there in the daytime, surrounded by the students. And he knew...he wouldn't be able to do it. He knew better. Never, no matter how long it took...he'd never be able to stand insults from someone weaker than himself. At least he knew Frieza's strength exceeded his own, the fights against him proved that much. But the others...he'd beaten them all five *years* ago. To listen to their insults, the utter humiliation...he broke every time. And now there was the added danger of the saiyajin. His own replacement, the son of the usurpers who'd killed his father...he knew without trying that he'd never be able to take a word of insult from that student. And no matter how tightly he tried to hold in the shaking anger, he knew what was going to happen when he went down tomorrow. Either he'd reveal himself and die for it, or he'd be carried back to this cell in complete degradation. In his mind, the prospects were equal. Pain and fury blazed around him, burning through him until he barely heard the sound of his door being opened. Blurred eyes snapped open to stare through a pale bluish golden haze and he couldn't think as a shard of fear raced through his back. He couldn't see who it was. If it were Frieza...he knew, Frieza would take it as a challenge...  
  
"Ve...Ve...geta...?!" A wave of fiery heat hit him and Krillin stumbled back as those wild eyes locked onto him, the bared teeth nearly making him give a cry of terror. Then the shocking glow that surrounded the saiyajin disappeared and Vegeta fell in a curled heap on the bare floor.   
  
* * *  
TBC  
--notes--  
This fic will have violence and angst in the future, just another forewarning. Whether or not there will be a GokuxVegeta lemon depends on reader response. I'm not particular either way. 


End file.
